Anniversary
by Dmarx
Summary: It's a difficult day and she expects as much, but what she doesn't expect is that in the end the joy will outweigh the sadness.


_Summary: It's a difficult day and she expects as much, but what she doesn't expect is that in the end the joy will outweigh the sadness._

_Author's Note: Exactly two years ago I posted my first chapter on FFN. Today, in celebration of that anniversary, consider this fic my way of saying thank you to all of you who have supported me along the way. It means the world to me._

_Disclaimer: Yeah...not so much._

* * *

**Anniversary**

She has rituals. Routines. Acts of love and remembrance.

A way to cling to the memories of the past, the love she once felt, the meanings these days used to have. Or still have. And she rarely varies from these patterns because, well, there are things she never wants to let go of. People to honor, their love and sacrifices never to be forgotten.

But now that she has Castle, has someone by her side to help her through, she's slowly realizing that maybe there's a way to honor her past and remember loved ones without spending the entire day drowning in the painful memories.

Maybe she can celebrate the happy memories instead.

* * *

January ninth.

The first year was the worst. The ninth fell on a Sunday, and Kate barely moved from her bed all day. She was home on holiday break still but that was almost worse because everything about the old house was still the same. Except that her mom was gone.

Her father was well absorbed in the bottle by that point, and although Kate was able to coax him out of the house that morning for long enough to go visit her mother's grave, she might as well have gone alone because it was like she was walking next to a ghost. There was alcohol on his breath, his words were jumbled and rambling, and he was the farthest thing from the supportive father she so desperately needed.

After breaking down completely in the middle of the cemetery, Kate dragged her father back home and left him to his own devices while she crawled back into bed, pillow clutched to her chest as she cried her eyes dry of tears. She couldn't even hold herself together so what was she supposed to do with a drunken father? She felt useless, empty, just wanted to drown in the pain today rather than exist behind the carefully fabricated mask that she erected every other day of the year.

She released a strained sob, curled deeper into bed, took what little she could from the minimal comfort of her tangled pile of blankets and pillows. Her stomach was too knotted to eat, her head ached from crying, her eyes were red and swollen, but her mom was gone, so what else was she supposed to do?

She just missed her so much. And to make matters worse, she missed her dad. She just wanted him to be able to wrap her up in his arms and make it all go away. Maybe together they could find a way to make the day less miserable. Maybe they could lean on each other and somehow find a way to get through this. But he had his bottle of whiskey and she hadn't seen him so much as shed a tear all day. She wasn't even sure he could anymore.

Sometimes, she thought he forgot why he was drinking whiskey in the first place.

[...]

The second year, she didn't even bother to come home, opting instead to lock herself in her room at NYU and block out the rest of the world.

[...]

The third year, she spent half the day in the Academy gym, beating the living daylights out of the punching bag and anyone who dared offer to spar with her.

[...]

By the fourth anniversary, she was out of the Academy and on the force, and Kate spent the day at work. Royce knew about her mother's case, knew about Kate's late nights at the precinct, grasping for anything, _anything _that might make it all make sense. He knew the day would be difficult for her, knew about her father and the lack of support she received from him.

It was the first time Kate ever allowed anyone to help shoulder the burden on that day.

It was also the last time. Until Castle.

[...]

It's been fourteen years now. Fourteen years since the day Kate and her dad came home to find Raglan waiting at their doorstep. Fourteen years since her heart was irreparably broken, her innocence thoroughly shattered by the actions of one power-hungry man's orders.

Fourteen years and it never seems to get any easier.

But Castle is there when she wakes in the morning, handing her a mug of coffee and cupping her jaw tenderly, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. He climbs back into bed with her, back against the headboard, silently sipping from his own mug while he awaits her words. Something, anything, to guide him as to what might help make the day easier for her.

Maybe just sitting here with him is all she really needs for now.

"Castle," she speaks after a long moment of silence, turning her head to face him.

His eyes are deep blue and solemn, focused solely on her. "Hmmm?"

"Can we just..." she trails off.

He raises an eyebrow, nods for her to continue.

Kate sets her coffee mug on the nightstand, slides back down beneath the covers, extends one hand to Castle. He understands her silent plea, mimics her actions until he's curled beneath her sheets, arms wrapped tightly around her and legs tangled with hers. He presses a kiss to the top of her head, cradles her to his chest.

He feels a tear slip from her cheek onto his bicep, holds her a little tighter in response.

[...]

When she takes him to the cemetery with her, spends an hour standing in front of her mom's grave with Castle's arms wrapped around her from behind, he's the solid presence that keeps her from crumbling to the ground.

When she begins to quietly tell her mom about the man who has stolen her heart, he feels a deep swell of pride and love.

When she turns in his arms and tells him she is sure her mom would have loved him, he can't help the tear that escapes from the corner of his eye.

And when they wind up back in her bed while Kate shares fond memories of her childhood, she finally starts to believe that maybe January ninth doesn't always have to be full of tears and sadness. That maybe happiness and love always prevail in the end.

* * *

February fourth.

Her mom would have been sixty-two today. Fourteen years of life she'll never get to experience. Fourteen years of her daughter's life she never got to see. Countless more in the future that will be devoid of her presence.

Kate never quite figured out how she felt on this day because it was a reminder that her mom was gone, but it was not quite as stark as the anniversary of her death itself. It was, however, a reminder of all of the milestones that her mom was missing. All the reasons that Kate missed her as well.

The first year was so soon after the murder that the fourth of February blended in with every other day of the previous month, dull and empty, Kate's entire body and mind numb as she went about her daily routine of classes, homework, pounding her anger at the world out at the campus gym while her heart pounded brokenly in the hollow of her chest where nothing could fill the void created by the loss of her mother.

She wasn't sure anything would ever fill that hole. Sometimes she wasn't sure she wanted to be around long enough to find out.

[...]

For the first few years she tried to drown herself in school work, in the Academy, in the job, tried to completely forget about the day. Attempted to treat it as any other day in her life as an only child, essentially abandoned by the only parent remaining.

Once she went through therapy and let the case go, she could no longer disappear into the case files for the day so instead she would swing by a boutique after work, buy a bouquet of her mom's favorite flowers and leave them at her grave before heading home and curling up in bed with a photo album and a mug of her mom's favorite tea.

But for the most part, she attempted to pretend that it was just any other day, that in a perfect world she shouldn't be out celebrating with her mother instead of sitting alone in her apartment. That she shouldn't still be part of a family that is intact and happy and whole.

[...]

The first February she and Castle are together, Kate wakes that morning completely unsure. Unsure of how to act, of what to say, of whether to even mention what this day is to her. That is until she finds Castle standing at the murder board in her office, one shutter open as he traces the picture of Johanna's grave, the dates etched into the gray stone for eternity.

He startles when her footfalls approach, steps back from the window. Kate nestles up behind him, wraps her arms around his waist as she presses her front to his back. He covers her hands with his own, holding her to him tightly.

"I didn't think you'd remember," she murmurs softly, lips brushing his neck as she settles her chin on his shoulder.

"I didn't for sure...had to double check," he answers softly. "I didn't...know what you usually did today but I wanted to be sure just in case."

She smiles in spite of herself, tears prickling the backs of her eyes, though they are for her mother just as much as they are for Castle and his genuine thoughtfulness.

"I bring her flowers," Kate answers into his neck, straightening her fingers and linking them with his. "Tell her I love her."

"Want me to go with you?" he asks gently, head tilting back to seek out her eyes.

She smiles, graciousness shining through the tears. "I would love that."

[...]

They bring her flowers.

Later that night, Castle arrives at her apartment with a giant cupcake in Johanna's honor.

Kate can't decide whether to smile or laugh or cry or kiss him senseless.

In the end, she does all four.

* * *

May sixteenth.

The day she almost left this world forever.

Last year she didn't want to dwell on it, tried to pretend it was just another day. But she would be lying if she didn't admit that she spent the entire day feeling as though every light was too bright, every sound too loud, and there was a dull ache in her chest that she hadn't felt in months.

As she changed into her pajamas that night she self-consciously avoided the mirror, one arm rising to cover the scars that would forever be a reminder of the horrors of that day, that week, and the months that followed.

[...]

This year she tries to ignore it as well, tries not to think about how close she came to leaving behind the man who loves her without him ever having the chance to know that she loves him too. So much.

She doesn't say anything aloud and neither does Castle but she can tell from the way he holds her more tenderly than normal that he too is aware of how close they came to losing it all.

* * *

November seventeenth.

Technically it's the anniversary of her birth, though she normally just thinks of it as her birthday. Or, until recently, just another day.

She has fond childhood memories of snowball fights in Central Park, ice skating with a group of her friends, building snowmen and making snow angels and then trudging home with cold fingers and noses and being greeted by hot cocoa and birthday cake, homemade by her mom.

The year she turned nineteen was the first time she was ever away from home on her birthday. Her dorm-mates threw a party, and there was music and dancing and alcohol and exuberance until the wee hours of the morning, and she remembers thinking that if this was what birthday parties were like, she should have a birthday at least once a month.

And then there was the year she turned twenty, the first in a string of miserable and forgettable birthdays. Her father was already well-acquainted with the bottle and she was back in New York City, living with her beauty pageant obsessed roommate and pretending that her destroyed family life was not slowly tearing her apart. She and Debbie got along well enough if they were sitting at the table doing homework together or side by side on the couch with a beer, so long as the conversation stayed on impersonal topics. There was a lot Debbie Winnaker didn't know, never would if Kate had her way. Her birthday was one such piece of information.

The day came and went in a sullen stupor. No celebrations, no presents, because, really, what was there to celebrate? Sure, she was another year older, but her mom wasn't there to see it, so what did it matter?

By the time she graduated from the Academy, worked her way onto the force, her birthday celebrations became a night out for appetizers and beers with Royce and his buddies, with Lanie, with Ryan and Esposito, and she went along with it because they were her coworkers and they were making an effort and she couldn't take the pitying looks everyone sent her way when she told them she planned to spend the evening alone.

But not until Castle did she ever have a birthday she truly enjoyed. And maybe that was because the first year he threw her a party was the first year she felt like it was 'I love you and want to see you smile' rather than 'I'm sorry your mom's not here but maybe food and company will help.'

Last year, he abided by her shameless hint and bought her jewelry; a beautiful bracelet that she wears on the occasions that they dress up and go out for a fancy dinner date. She woke to breakfast in bed, spent the day wrapped up in him, and tumbled back into bed that night still tangled up in Castle's arms, feeling his love wrap around her in every touch, every kiss, every smile.

This year he makes her breakfast in bed as well, an elaborate brunch that they share while stealing food from each other's plates...and kisses from each other's lips. When they finish he takes the dishes out to the kitchen, makes her promise to stay put.

He returns with a small velvet box and drops to one knee right there in his room.

They don't leave the bedroom all day.

* * *

July twenty-third.

The anniversary Kate never thought she would celebrate. Because after losing her mom, after watching the way it tore her dad apart, she all but dismissed the idea of marriage. Of forever.

Until Castle wormed his way into her life and helped her believe again.

Wedding planning without her mother was not as bad as she thought it might be thanks to the presence of Martha and Alexis and Lanie and their overwhelming wealth of ideas and opinions and support. The first day she went out to try on wedding dresses, she came home empty handed but with eyes full of tears because no matter how amazing everyone else said she looked, her mom wasn't there to corroborate their opinions. And how was she supposed to pick out a dress without her mom's approval?

The second day they went out, Martha extracted a small photograph from her purse, an old print of Johanna on her wedding day wearing an elegant dress and with a beautiful smile on her face. Kate could only assume that Castle had dug it up somewhere amidst the boxes of photo albums that sat in their closet, slipped it to his mother knowing that it might come in handy.

"She was so happy," Martha whispered, wrapping Kate in a maternal hug when tears pricked the younger woman's eyes. "She would want that for you. For both of you."

"Thank you, Martha," she choked out, returning her embrace.

When she slipped into the third dress of the day, the intricate beading reminiscent of that on her mother's dress, Kate knew that it was the one.

[...]

It's a difficult day and she expects as much, but what she doesn't expect is that in the end the joy will outweigh the sadness.

Kate walks down the aisle arm in arm with her father, stopping to pay silent tribute to the empty chair in the front row as they approach the altar. As she nears she sees a single lily resting diagonally across the seat.

Her mother's favorite flower.

Her chest clenches but her smile grows because there's only one person who would have placed it there and she didn't think it was possible but she loves him even a little bit more now.

They say their vows, exchange rings, share their first kiss. Johanna isn't there to witness any of it but as the magic of the day surrounds her, Kate thinks she can almost feel her presence.

When she mentions it later that night, Castle tells her she's right. Johanna was there.

"She's here every day," he says. "In spirit."

Kate smiles genuinely, swipes at a tear. Castle catches her hand as it falls, guides her palm to rest flat on her chest beneath the weight of his own hand. She can feel the beat of her heart, racing uncontrollably with the overwhelming emotions of the day, and the cool press of his ring against the back of her hand.

When Castle speaks again, she feels as though her chest might overflow with happiness and love.

"And she will always live on in you."

* * *

**END**

* * *

_Thoughts?_


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